ello called them to supper, and, as they returned
to the hall, a burst of earnest music from the whole orchestra partially
drowned the clap of thunder that again marked Richard's passage through
the door. Sarah Brown felt sure that Lady Arabel arranged this on
purpose. The wizard's mother obviously had great difficulty in not
noticing the phenomena connected with her son, and she wore a striving
smile and a look of glassy and well-bred unconsciousness whenever
anything magic happened.

At the end of the hall the orchestra, arranged neatly in a crescent, was
busily employing its violins in a unanimous melody of so rude and
destructive a nature that it seemed as if every string must be broken.
This mania spread until even the outlying bassoons, triangles, and
celestas were infected. A piercing note of command, however, from a
clarinet caused a devastating dumbness to fall suddenly on every
instrument except the piano, which continued self-consciously alone. The
pianist looked at the ceiling mostly, but one note seemed to be an
especial favourite with him, and whenever he played it he looked closely
and paternally at it, almost indeed applying his nose to it. All at
once, just as Sarah Brown was beginning to imagine that she could catch
the tune and the time, the music ceased, apparently in the middle of a
bar. Richard sneezed once or twice. That unsophisticated wizard was
evidently enjoying himself in the practice of his art. One felt that
magic was not encouraged in the Army, and that the supernatural orgy in
which he was now indulging was the accumulated reaction after long
self-control. Strange noises of unnatural laughter, for instance,
proceeded from distant corners of the hall, and each of the electric
lights in turn winked facetiously. The string of the double bass broke
loudly, and the new string which its devotee laboriously inserted also
broke at once. The performer looked appealingly at Lady Arabel, but she
refrained from meeting his eye. A blizzard of butterflies enveloped the
table. This was evidently rather a difficult trick, for the spell
collapsed repeatedly, and from one second to another Sarah Brown was
never quite sure whether there were really Purple Admirals drowning in
her soup or not.

"You are so lucky," sighed the witch, "plenty of room and every
facility. I myself am so dreadfully cramped and hampered. I often have
to boil my incantations over a spirit lamp, and even that is becoming
difficult-